


A (sappy) Love Story

by applepieisworthit



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humans, I have practically built a world for this fic, I wrote a whole family tree for a one-shot, Love, M/M, Modern, because who doesn't need that in their lives, cute old Gigolas fic, human!AU, modern!AU, set in 2015, so many kids and grandkids damn, suicidal thoughts trigger warning, they're very brief though, well done me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepieisworthit/pseuds/applepieisworthit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been married for over forty years and together for longer, and at 68 Gimli still stared at his husband sometimes with puzzlement and amazement. This man loved him.</p>
<p>(Cutesy old!Gigolas because who doesn't need this in their lives?? Modern!Au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A (sappy) Love Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Poplitealqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/gifts), [determamfidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/determamfidd/gifts).



> So the lovely Miss Pop made a post requesting more old!Gigolas and (hopefully) I have delivered.
> 
> (again I cannot seem to stop myself from borrowing characters from the wonderful Determamfidd's story Sansukh - Mizim is all hers)

They've been married for over forty years and together for longer, and at 68 Gimli still stares at his husband sometimes with puzzlement. 

He is in constant utter amazement that this wonderful man was in love with him in return, the one he had admired from afar for months when he first started at Middle Earth University, the one who had been one of the best friends that Gimli had ever had for the first two years of his degree and had later become the love of his life; the man who still has him stuttering over words or sucking in a breath with certain words or gestures. 

Legolas is older than him at 72 but Gimli will swear to anyone that his husband looks not a day over 50. His sheet of shoulder length hair is still a very pale gold, slowly turning an almost ethereal white and his bright eyes still shine with an unnameable mischievousness that speaks to Gimli of long days spent in the sun in the summer when they were in their late twenties before children and responsibilities tied them to a tighter schedule.

Nearly ten years ago now Gimli had retired and they had brought themselves a large house out in the countryside with enough rooms for their children and abundance of grandchildren. They also have a large back garden which is scattered with multiple elaborate garden toys carved years ago by Gimli’s father Glóin for Gimli and Legolas’ children.

Along with the frequent visits from their five adopted children and the multitude of grandchildren produced by said children, Gimli’s cousins Fíli and Kíli have both been regular visitors for much of their adult lives and still come over infrequently, often bringing their respective wives and/or children and grandchildren to socialise with more of the large and ever expanding Durin family.

Today is one such occasion. It is the birthday of Gimli and Legolas’ eldest child, Ann-Marie, and the whole family has turned up to celebrate her turning 42, filling up the empty and quiet spaces that usually occupy the 11 bedroomed mansion that they have gradually expanded over the years to fit their five children, twelve grandchildren and one great-grandchild.

Gimli is in the playroom, surrounded by his youngest grandchildren, little Jamie, his youngest daughter, Christine’s, 6 month old son is cuddled in his lap, his hands tangled in Gimli’s still resplendent great grey beard and his mouth gumming on one of Gimli’s fingers. Two of Christine’s other children, Jessie and Mackenzie, are on the floor, the many toys that still reside in the house clustered around them and Rosie, their only great-grandchild is on the floor between them, clapping her hands in delight as her second cousins build Lego towers and knock them down for her.

He presses his lips to his youngest grandchild’s forehead, the sweet scent of baby filling his nostrils and Gimli’s heart swells with love as he watches over his family. There had been a time when he had never thought he could have this and now here he is, surrounded by those he loves and married to a beautiful man who makes his heart swell with every breath and he couldn’t be happier.

Meanwhile Legolas is elbow-deep in dough with their eldest granddaughter in the kitchen; flour smeared into their hair and pushed under their fingernails like it will never come out. Legolas jerks in shock when Molly, their eldest grandchild, flicks the half-finished batter for the cake at him, his eyes widen at her and he stands frozen for a moment splattered head to foot with the cake mix.

When he is finished blinking in shock at her, and wiping the drying batter that is smeared over his face away, he pulls his hair up into a messy ponytail and notes out of the corner of his eye how she relaxes, like she thinks there will be no retribution for her act. That idea is thrown out of the window when Legolas lifts the jug full of milk off of the counter and pours it over her head.

She gawks up at her grandpa, blinking furiously to keep the liquid from her eyes and spluttering as it collects in her wide open mouth. He smirks down at her, and then lets out an utterly ridiculous shriek when she smashes one of the unbroken eggs onto the top of his (usually glorious) hair. The scene in the kitchen quickly devolves into madness as the retaliations get steadily more outlandish and by the time their loud shrieks draw attention from the rest of the family Molly’s dark skin is almost utterly hidden by the flour and milk that have formed a thick paste and Legolas has never looked more like an ethereal being. 

The family members now standing in the doorway are in various states of shock and hilarity, Molly’s long-term boyfriend Michael is nearly bent double and tears are streaming down his face as he stares at the mess Molly is. Gimli is huffing out deep chuckles from his strong chest; Jamie still curled up in his thick beard and one of his large hands placed gently on the head of Jessie. He hands both of Christine’s kids off to her, and approaches his decorated husband carefully, avoiding the puddles of milk and assorted cake mixture on the floor.

He pulls Legolas’ face down towards his and wipes his mouth clean before pulling him into a gentle kiss that Legolas practically melts into and has the rest of the family making exaggerated gagging sounds behind them. Gimli flips them the two fingered salute before wrapping himself more firmly around his filthy husband and pressing their faces closer together. Legolas smiles gently against Gimli’s lips, raising a hand and sliding it into the wild dark grey mess that is Gimli’s hair. Behind them they hear their family scuttling from the room as quick as they can and leaving the, still deeply in love, couple alone.

Gimli pulls back with a blissful smile on his face, a smile that is mirrored on his husband’s, now slightly flushed, face. They chuckle lightly at how the mess has spread between them before Gimli pulls Legolas’ face down towards his again and places a gentle loving kiss on his forehead. Legolas’ lips quirk in a smile that pulls at Gimli’s heart-strings and Gimli finds an answering grin pulling at his own mouth.

They are still wrapped in each other’s arms ten minutes later when their eldest son comes looking for them. They have gravitated to the kitchen table, Legolas, the lanky pole that he is, is seated in one their chairs, his still lithe arms wrapped around Gimli’s thick waist and his silvery-gold head buried in the softening muscles of Gimli’s stomach, the slight pudgy-ness that Gimli has been slowly putting on for the last few years now starting to overtake the hard, stone-like muscles of his aging husband. Gimli’s wrinkled, but still strong; hands are buried in Legolas’ shining hair, weaved through the thinning strands and teasing out the tangles covered in flour slowly and meticulously. Legolas is breathing deeply and slowly and the hands that he has wrapped around Gimli are curled into his husband’s shirt.

Jacob, their eldest son, standing in the doorway, takes a moment to take in utter love that is passing between his fathers in the utter chaos of their kitchen and the thought crosses his mind that this room and the way they are right now is a perfect representation for their life and the hardships they have had to face, and he thanks whatever god there may be every day for the fact that these two wonderful men adopted him and showed him what a loving family and a good home could do for a person.

He knows, just as all of their children know, about the adversity that the two had faced when they first came out to their friends, and how finding each other at university had been an utter blessing in disguise. How their families had been as supportive of them as possible through the storm that had come at them both for coming out as gay in the turmoil of the late 1950s and early 60s. How Thranduil, Jacob’s grandfather, had barely supported their relationship and subsequent marriage at first but had come round; slowly but surely charmed by Gimli and his close knit and large support network of a family. How Legolas after coming out at 16 in 1959 was ostracised by everyone except his closest friend Aragorn, and his girlfriend Arwen. 

How Gimli was tormented and nearly broken by the children at school and how it was Fíli who found him, at 17 in 1964, with a razor to his wrist and tears in his eyes, and had gently talked his cousin down and pulled him into a hug. How Fíli and Kíli had taken the time to listen to what Gimli had to say, and when Glóin and Mizim had taken their son into their arms and wrapped him in the unending love of their family, Fíli and Kíli had gone to the school and nearly beaten the bullies to a pulp, only stopping when their mother Dís had shown up to stop them and pulled them home. How, when they wanted children it had taken them years for anyone to consider allowing them to adopt, and even then they were met with suspicion and doubt, like two men could not raise a child. And how, through all these hardships that Legolas and Gimli had faced they had found each other and clung together like they were the only stable points in the storm of hatred and vitriol that had come their way for years. Looking at them now Jacob cannot help but feel a sharp shock of utter pain for the fact that his parents had become the wonderful men they were through utterly horrifying circumstances.

He startles when his father lifts his head from his Da’s stomach a questioning look on his face, Jacob had become utterly entranced by the sad beauty that the image of his parents surrounded by this absolute chaos had created.

“Jacob?” Legolas, his father, is frowning at him from his place at the kitchen table, “Is everything okay?”

Jacob has to clear his throat a few times and still when the words come to him his voice is croaky and hoarse from the awful feelings that have been coursing through him in the last few minutes, “Da, father, I was sent,” here Gimli’s eyebrows rise, “by Christine, to ‘discover’ whether we’ll actually be eating anything or if you two are being, in her words, ‘utter saps’ again.” Gimli’s eyebrows had relaxed at the mention of their youngest, and pushiest, daughter, no longer surprised and smirk had quirked both his and Legolas’ lips at the last remark.

Legolas finally rises from his perch and tangles his fingers gently with his husband’s as they survey the room, “Why doesn’t someone order a takeaway for everyone? We can finish the cooking when Fíli and Kíli arrive with everyone else tomorrow.” Jacob smile gently at his parent’s unconscious signs of affection and then nods and flees the kitchen before they can start up any of their old person lovie-dovieness again.

Gimli smiles up at his husband of over forty years and a warmth suffuses throughout him at the glorious sight of his aging husband covered in flour, milk and god knows what else and looking as mischievous as a teen again.

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SO GONNA BE WRITING MORE IN THIS UNIVERSE IF PEOPLE WOULD LIKE THAT?


End file.
